


Bed Rest Is Boring

by Annehiggins



Series: Bonding Through the Years [2]
Category: Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-26
Updated: 2014-05-26
Packaged: 2018-01-26 14:43:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1692089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Annehiggins/pseuds/Annehiggins
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the aftermath of the Battle of Naboo, Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon recover from their injuries then deal with the Dark Lord of Sith. Written and posted a year or so after the movie's release.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bed Rest Is Boring

**Bed Rest Is Boring  
by Anne Higgins**

One and a half days. Yes, that was quite long enough to form an opinion. Obi-Wan Kenobi shifted his head to look at the man whose broad chest was currently doing duty as Obi-Wan's pillow and said, "Bed rest is boring."

"I think I've been insulted," Qui-Gon Jinn answered. Which might have worried Obi-Wan were it not for the fact that his former Master had made a less than successful attempt to stifle a chuckle.

"I suspect you'll forgive me." He kissed the nearest span of skin and told himself it was merely a coincidence that he'd chosen to lie with his head so close to the spot where the Sith's weapon had torn into his bondmate.

Qui-Gon was harder to fool. "I'm all right, beloved," he soothed, one hand stroking Obi-Wan's hair. "You saved me."

But only just. How long would it haunt him? How many days ... years would he see the red energy blade strike? How many times must he watch the man who shared his soul crumple to the ground? How many times would he need to hear the beat of Qui-Gon's heart before he stopped seeing him die every time he closed his eyes?

Chilled, he shuddered and wished he had the strength to take refuge in anger. But he had recovered enough to ask, "Why?"

"Why what?"

/Don't play games with me, Quigee,/ he snapped through their soul-bond, his voice currently too inadequate to express his ire.

The large hand caressed his head again. Quite an accomplishment when movement tended to exhaust Qui-Gon. /I'm sorry./

/I don't want an apology. I want an explanation./ To avoid any more evasions he put the damned question into words. /Why did you do this to us? All you had to do was hold your position, and I would have reached you before the gates could separate us. Why did you attack the Sith?/ 

/I was afraid./

That surprised Obi-Wan. Neither of them was good at hiding their feelings from the other – a consequence of living in each other's heads since Obi-Wan's birth. /I didn't sense any fear in you./

/What did you sense?/

/Anger – you were furious when he knocked me off the catwalk./

/Yes, I was./ The fingers left his hair to caress his cheek. /Anything else?/

He thought a moment. Something that wasn't easy given the nightmarish vision of near death that kept trying to absorb all other events of that day. /Despair. And love. I felt your love for me./ Ah, so that was it. /You were afraid for me./

/Yes./

/Why? I recovered from the fall quickly./ Certainly his performance had been good enough for the Jedi Council to declare him a Knight without going through the formal Trials. Surviving a battle with a Sith had been seen as the far greater challenge.

/Now, who is playing games, my Obi-Wan? As you feel what is in my heart, I knew what was in yours./

Terror. His one and only vision – experienced during his childhood -- and all the uneasiness that had hovered at the edge of his consciousness since the Council had assigned them to the Naboo mission had come crashing into him in that power station and solidified into one giant certainty screaming in his mind – Qui-Gon was going to die. And he almost had. Would have if Obi-Wan hadn't refused to allow it. /I thought. .../

/I know. And you would have fought to protect me, not defeat the Sith had I allowed you to fight at my side. It would have meant your death./

/Better my death, than yours./

Qui-Gon frowned at him. /Do you think I love you any less?/

/No, but –/

/No, Obi-Wan. The only difference between us that day was that I was the one in the position to prevent such a sacrifice./

/The cost was too high./

/Never./

/Damn you, I would have died, too./

/We don't know that./

Obi-Wan sighed. He was never going to win this argument. And yet it had been Qui-Gon Healer Tranyalli had spoken to.

**Sixteen Years Earlier**

Obi-Wan snuggled closer to his bondmate's chest and let the familiar heartbeat fill his every thought. Even now the terror clung to him. Even now with Qui-Gon holding him, he needed the heart's steady rhythm to reassure him that the man was alive and well.

A kiss brushed against his head, a hand caressed his shoulder. /Sleep./

He knew that trick. Put the Bondmate to Sleep. None of that, not today. He wanted to stay awake and listen to the heartbeat, not sleep in dreams that might not believe Qui-Gon lived. So he faked it. He'd figured out how to do that. Channel the energy of the command away from his mind, but relax, let his thoughts seem to drift and taper off. Sort of like meditation. He wasn't dumb enough to believe that he could fool Qui-Gon this way often, but it usually took the man a few times to penetrate any new sneaky trick Obi-Wan came up with. And he refused to feel guilty about that. After all, it wasn't very nice to put him to sleep when he didn't want to go to sleep.

Qui-Gon kissed his head again, then sighed. "Tell me what happened."

"Your captors locked you in a Force-shielded room, did they not?" Tranyalli asked. She had been constantly at Obi-Wan's side for the last few days and her voice sounded hoarse with exhaustion. "And kept you drugged?"

"Yes, but what does that have to do with anything?"

"It must have interfered with the bond you share with the boy."

Irritation surged through that bond, then was stifled so quickly it had only the briefest of moments to register in Obi-Wan's mind. "We have a soul-bond, Tranyalli. Nothing can sever it."

"No, I didn't say sever," the woman told him with more patience than Obi-Wan would have had should Quigee speak to him with that sort of tone. "It interfered with it enough to diminish the intensity he is accustomed to, while the drugs prevented you from responding to him when his mind reached for you. I've never seen anyone so terrified in all my days."

'Terrified.' That was a good word for it. He'd been doing his sums, concentrating on his work, then found himself ... alone? He guessed that was right. He'd never really been alone, alone. Sure he could be the only one in a room, but Quigee was always there in his mind. A presence within him that never went away, one he could call to and never fail to get a response. Only this time, Quigee hadn't answered. He'd felt alone and had cried out in alarm. But no answer had come. He didn't remember much after that. Nothing but the screaming. His screaming.

He'd lost all sense of time, then Quigee had finally answered. /Obi-Wan!/

The sound of Qui-Gon's voice had stopped the screams, and Obi-Wan had found himself in the infirmary, two days gone since the first wail had ripped from his throat. Two more days had passed before Qui-Gon could finish his mission and return to him, but Obi-Wan's throat remained too raw to make a sound.

More petting, another kiss. "I don't understand, it shouldn't hurt him like this if the contact level drops."

"No, not for normal bond-mates."

Obi-Wan had to fight not to give himself away. He didn't like it when others tried to make what they shared seem weird.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Qui-Gon, you were a part of him from the moment he drew his first breath. Your presence is as vital to him as your heart is to you. Focus on that and see how you would react if it somehow slowed to the point you could not feel it."

Qui-Gon stiffened. "I. ..." His arms tightened around Obi-Wan. "A heart is necessary for survival."

There was a long silence.

"Please, I'm twenty-two years older than he is."

"I'm sorry."

"You have to be wrong. You must be."

She sighed. "Perhaps I am. There is no real way to know, but I would strongly suggest you teach him how to feel the bond when it is at its lowest ebb. I don't think anyone wants to go through this again."

Obi-Wan listened and tried to put it all together. Why was Quigee so afraid? Why was he worried about how much older he was? 'A heart was necessary for survival.' You died if it stopped, which was why he'd defied Quigee and stayed awake so he could listen to his bondmate's heartbeat.

That meant the Healer was saying Obi-Wan would die if the soul-bond ended. He would not survive. Obi-Wan smiled.

**Present**

Not a week, if that much, had gone by in the years since then when Qui-Gon didn't manage to work in some lesson about how important it was to be self-reliant and a soul-bond was not an excuse for dependence. Because he knew how upset his bondmate was by what Tranyalli had told him, Obi-Wan had allowed it, had allowed Qui-Gon to come to believe he would live on. Convinced him so completely that he had thought he could die to save Obi-Wan. That had been a mistake on both their parts. One he would never allow to be repeated again.

Yes, in time, he had come to know that his body could survive the shock. Had in fact survived for the few moments his Master's heart had stopped in the power station. But something else he had figured out had also been confirmed.

He could indeed out live Qui-Gon. Physically. /This is pointless. I wouldn't have survived if you'd fallen./ 

Obi-Wan Kenobi was and had always been the bondmate of Qui-Gon Jinn. That fact had defined both their lives since his birth. He didn't know who would inhabit his body should that end, but it would not be him or anyone else he cared to know. He could still feel himself reeling, part of his mind and soul dying along with his Master. Never again. /Remember that the next time you try to sacrifice yourself for me./ If it ever happened again, he was resolved to killing the body that was too stupid to know when it was time to die.

/Obi-Wan!/ Despair and horror flooded through the bond. That final thought had been too close to the surface. Qui-Gon had heard it without his putting it into words.

He shifted upward, wrapping his arms and legs around the body he knew so well, then kissed Qui-Gon. /I'm sorry, I didn't mean for you to know that./

/I don't want you to. .../

He kissed him again, then settled his head on the nearest broad shoulder. /I will already be dead. You have always been a part of my heart and mind, Quigee. How could I possibly want to live in a universe without you?/

/I would have lived on within you./

/That's not enough. You know that's not enough. I need you with me. Here or when we are one with the Force, but I will not survive you, beloved. I. Will. Not./

Qui-Gon sighed. /Perhaps we should consider a different life, then. A safer one./

It was not a new idea. Twice before Qui-Gon's thoughts had turned in that direction. Once after Tranyalli had told him of Obi-Wan's eventual fate, and once again when Xanatos had turned. As he had on both occasions, Obi-Wan looked into their hearts, then answered, /You know that's not possible. Being a Jedi is what we are. How would either of us know the other if we tried to be something we are not?/

/I hate it when you are wiser than I am./

/If I am wise, it is because Master Qui-Gon Jinn has nagged at me all my life to not be anything less than that./

/My imp./

/My Quigee./

/Sleep./

/Yes, Master./

*

"Why did the Trade Federation attack the Naboo?" Qui-Gon felt much stronger after a few hours sleep and was ready to turn his attention to the why of this entire mission.

"Profit is the usual motivation with them, is it not?" Obi-Wan shifted down to his usual spot so his head rested on Qui-Gon's breast bone.

"Yes, but there was very little about their behavior that could be described as 'usual.' The risks were too high, the potential rewards too low."

"Naboo's wealth is considerable." The young man frowned. "But that wealth comes from its population, not a resource." Music, literature, theater and architecture were the imports of Naboo. "An enslaved population is not normally a creative one."

"No, it is not. That makes Naboo useful only as an object lesson, not as an acquisition, yet they invaded."

"I see what you mean, Qui-Gon. The blockade would have satisfied the need to protest the trade route tariffs. Why waste the money on an invasion?"

"We seem to have a great deal of time on our hands, my love. Let us see if we can come up with the answer."

*

The healers let Obi-Wan get out of bed on the third day. Qui-Gon found himself feeling absurdly lonely as he listened to the sound of the shower. Lonely or jealous? No more med droid baths for his Obi-Wan. It would be at least another day before he would be able to say the same. Although he did seem to be recovering quickly. /Imp?/

/Yes, Quigee?/

/Are you going to be much longer?/

He heard Obi-Wan laugh, the bright echo of it sounding in his mind as well and had to smile. He loved that sound.

/Do you miss me?/

/Well, the bed is large, and you are fairly comfortable./

Obi-Wan snorted. /Quigee, I am not a stuffed toy./

/Don't tempt me./

The laughter sounded again, this time laced with a dirty chuckle. /None of that, Master Jinn. The healers wouldn't approve and Amidala would kill me./

He scowled. /Bed rest is boring./

/I already said that. You weren't impressed by my brilliance as I recall./

/I was too busy being sleepy. Get back out here./

/Coming./

The shower switched over to a sonic burst, then a few moments later, Obi-Wan emerged from the refresher dressed in a deep green robe.

"Do you have to wear so much?" Qui-Gon demanded even as he admired the way the color set off the green in Obi-Wan's eyes. Not that the little imp didn't know that. He was practically posing.

Obi-Wan chuckled when Qui-Gon fixed him with a knowing glare, not in the least repentant at being caught teasing his poor, tired, bedridden, abused –

/Oh, please. How a Jedi Master can be such a baby. .../

Qui-Gon resisted the temptation to make a face, and patted the bed instead. Beautiful eyes narrowed in suspicion, then brightened with fond amusement when Qui-Gon couldn't stop a yawn. Reassured that his virtue – or more likely his bondmate's energy levels – were safe from any overly ambitious notions, Obi-Wan plopped down on the indicated spot, crossing his legs under him.

Absently, as the young man had done several times since he'd managed to stay conscious for more than a few minutes, Obi-Wan played with the strands of hair that used to lead into his Padawan braid.

Tired and bored, Qui-Gon forgot to hide a certain sensation of wistful regret.

Obi-Wan looked at him, grinned, got up, pulled something out of the drawer, then returned to the bed. "Is this what you're missing?" he asked, holding up the severed braid.

He tried to look like he didn't know what the other man was talking about.

"You do innocent very poorly, Quigee."

"All right. I liked the way it looked on you."

"And you liked playing with it."

"Yes, it makes the perfect leash."

More laughter. "I guess I do need one at that." He leaned over and kissed Qui-Gon. Sitting back, he held the braid in place, then concentrated.

Qui-Gon frowned, then opened his mouth to protest, but Obi-Wan's triumphant, "All fixed," stopped him before he could get a word out.

"Imp, if you've drained yourself reattaching that thing, I swear I'll turn you over my knee."

It was an absurd thing to say as he had never once given Obi-Wan more than a single swat on the backside and right now merely sitting up sorely taxed his strength.

Obi-Wan smiled, a shyness to it. When his bondmate's protective streak wasn't infuriating him, he often responded with shy pleasure. "I was careful, but a nap wouldn't be unwelcome."

Qui-Gon knew he was being humored, but he wasn't ready to let Obi-Wan out of his clutches. He opened his arms, snuggled his bondmate close, then happily went back to sleep.

*

"So we agree that someone else had to be behind the Trade Federation's actions?" Obi-Wan toyed with a length of his bondmate's hair. The sonics the med droids used kept it clean and soft, but he looked forward to a few shared baths and washing it himself.

"Yes. It would also be in keeping with what we know of the Sith's methods in the past. They crave power, but tend to achieve it from behind the scenes." He kissed Obi-Wan's temple. "And I, too, look forward to having you wash my hair."

He grinned, knowing the image of doing so had been prominent in his mind. And he did love playing with his bondmate's hair. One of the first things he'd learned as child was how to braid the silken length. "That means we should look to who would have benefited had the plan succeeded."

"No, my imp, that means we should look to who would have benefited regardless of the outcome. Playing all sides of an equation is also a Sith trait."

"All right, then who did?"

*

Obi-Wan woke up the next morning feeling all but recovered. As he had for the last two days. He also knew Qui-Gon would not. His bondmate's body had healed enough to allow the man to get up to relieve himself and take a quick sonic shower, but beyond that, Qui-Gon would remain confined to the bed for at least another two days.

A frown crossed Obi-Wan's face as he stared up at the ceiling. There were many things he could do. Should do. See to Anakin for one. Mace Windu had remained on Naboo to shield the fact that Qui-Gon lived from any Force sensitive, and he was using the need to observe Anakin as an excuse to remain on Naboo.

That fact did not discharge Obi-Wan from his duties to his Padawan, for that was what Anakin was until Qui-Gon could rise from the dead and take over. A few more days at the most, but the boy had to be feeling lost and alone. They had not dared tell him the truth – no matter how gifted Anakin might be, his untrained mind would never have stood up against the most casual probe. That left him thinking the only man who had believed in him was dead and the Knight who had become his Master by default was too busy mourning to pay him any heed.

Yes, he should go see Anakin. Reassure him all would be well. Let him see that his Master was fine. But Obi-Wan's own Master was not fine. Qui-Gon's body ached and his energy levels were low. He was vulnerable to attack and in lingering discomfort. Both things were well beyond Obi-Wan's endurance.

He should go to Anakin, but instead, as he had done each morning, he drew upon the Force and sent his own energy into his bondmate's sleeping form. A boost. A small boost. A mere fraction of what he had done in the power station was all he intended or had given the past few mornings, but it was almost intoxicating to feel the man he loved grow stronger, the rawness of his healing wounds easing and the pain fading. He could feel that it was within him to completely heal Qui-Gon this time. It made the loss of his own energy meaningless, and his control slipped

The body beneath his hands suddenly jerked away from his touch, then large hands closed around his wrists and Qui-Gon bellowed, "Have you lost all sense!?!"

Obi-Wan flinched. Qui-Gon in a rage was not something he saw often.

"Sith, boy! You're a Knight, not a Healer! You almost killed yourself the first time!"

The first time. Obi-Wan shuddered and instinctively moved closer to Qui-Gon even though anger radiated from him.

Arms closed around him, a kiss pressed against the top of his head and anger gave way to irritation and fear.

"I'm sorry," Obi-Wan whispered, feeling weak and dizzy. He hadn't quite undone all his own healing, but it had been a close thing. "I didn't intend to drain myself this much, and, if we were on Coruscant, you would have healed by now." Naboo's healers were very skilled, but a Jedi responded better to the care of a healer strong with the Force, and Qui-Gon had been in dire need of the small energy infusions Obi-Wan had given him. "I can't stand it when you aren't well."

Qui-Gon sighed and tightened the embrace. "I know the feeling, my beautiful imp, but you must not weaken yourself to strengthen me. It is ... irresponsible to expect Mace to continue to protect us."

"I know. I --"

"Obi-Wan, how often have you done this?"

He would no more directly lie to Qui-Gon, than Qui-Gon would lie to him, but his mind did race for an evasion. Unfortunately, it did not do so with stealth.

"Obi-Wan."

"Every morning, but the first." He tried to keep the rest of his thought hidden, but Qui-Gon was too aware of him.

"You always do this, don't you? When I am ill or injured you boost my energy." He shook his head. "And I always thought I was a fast healer. You must promise me you will never do this again."

No, he couldn't. Wouldn't. He had to be able to help his bondmate. His mind raced again, and, this time, it did not fail him. Qui-Gon would not want to make a similar vow. "Not unless you make the same promise."

Qui-Gon clenched his jaw. While their stations had compelled Obi-Wan to assist him covertly, Qui-Gon had always done so openly and with an affectionate smile. "That is different. I am your Master and your welfare is my responsibility."

"I'm a Knight, now, and you have always been my responsibility. We both promise or I will do as I deem necessary." Not that he wouldn't anyway, promise or no promise.

"Obi-Wan."

He made a non-committal sound, snuggled closer, closed his eyes and concentrated on sending 'and that's final' impulses through the bond.

/I wasn't finished with my lecture./

/'m tired. Can yell at me more later./

/You wouldn't be tired, if –/

/Going to sleep now. Love you, Quigee./

Qui-Gon sighed heavily, sent an odd vision of a three-year-old Obi-Wan sucking his thumb through the bond, then stretched out on the bed and let Obi-Wan drift off.

*

Thanks to Obi-Wan's stunt, it was Qui-Gon who woke hours later feeling completely recovered. He showered and dressed, then prowled around their quarters, fixing his sleeping bondmate with a glare every few minutes. Damned fool boy.

/Well, except for the 'boy' part, I might think you were talking about yourself./ The voice in his head was as unwelcome as it was familiar.

/Mace,/ he growled back.

/Temper, temper, Qui-Gon./

Happy to have a target other than a sleeping one, he sent a rude suggestion through the bond that never quite faded between two former lovers. Rude, graphic and complete with detailed illustrations.

Mace laughed in his mind. /I believe I may have tried that once on Kattau, but I was a bit too worse for drink to remember clearly./

Qui-Gon sighed in exasperation. Obi-Wan was determined to sleep and Mace refused to take offence. This was not shaping up to be a good day. /What do you want?/

/To talk to you. Open the door./

Serious thought to doing no such thing crossed his mind.

/Open it or I'll tell Obi-Wan all about the time you went to Kattau with me./

Qui-Gon snorted. That drunken debauchery had happened a full year before Obi-Wan was even born. No reason to be concerned with that. Then again it would be nice if his bondmate were allowed to keep a few illusions about him. At least until he was older. He reflected briefly on the event. Much, much older. /That's blackmail./

/Yes, isn't it./

The pleased lack of guilt in that response worried him enough that he stalked over to the security panel and released the door.

Mace stood on the other side, a smirk on his face. It faded once he walked in. "I thought I told you not to let him drain himself."

Qui-Gon sighed. It would be obvious to any Force sensitive that Obi-Wan's body was re-energizing itself. "The Sith be damned imp decided to try his hand at healing me while I was asleep. He is far too protective of me."

Mace stared, then laughed.

"And what precisely is so amusing?"

"The irony of that statement." He stopped laughing and gave Qui-Gon a once over that reminded him of a curious little imp studying a bug. It would have made a man want to squirm if he were the sort to give another the satisfaction. "Or have I made a mistake in thinking that trying to protect him was what got both of you into this condition?"

Qui-Gon cast a look of intense dislike in his direction. "It is my duty to protect my Padawan."

Mace rolled his eyes. "Your Padawan slew a Sith Lord and saved your life. While you made a grand attempt at dying. It makes me wonder who should be training whom."

"You weren't there."

"No, but I do know that if he would allow it, you'd keep him far from any danger."

"As he would me." He took a deep shuddering breath. "He would even chose to die in my place should he sense one of us was fated not to survive."

A hand gripped his shoulder in a comforting gesture. "It would be far easier on those who love you both if you would concentrate on living for one another."

He reached up and gave the hand a squeeze. Mace was his oldest friend and his first lover. Might have been his only lover if not for Obi-Wan. Despite the heartbreak Qui-Gon's discovery of his bondmate had caused him, Mace had always treated Obi-Wan with kindness. It made it very easy for a part of Qui-Gon to still love him. "We will try."

"There is no --"

"Spare me, my friend. My Master is wise about many things, but sometimes all a man can do is try."

Another squeeze then the hand slipped away. "Yes, I know."

He smiled slightly. Aggravating, but usually supportive. That was his Mace. "What did you wish to speak to me about?"

"Anakin."

Sith! He'd thought that was all settled. Now, what had crawled up the Council's collective backsides? He smiled very sweetly. "Yes?"

"While you've been cuddling with your bondmate, some of us have been bored out of our skulls."

That not being at all what he'd expected, but refusing to give Mace the satisfaction of looking confused, he opted for an arch, "Oh?"

Mace glanced away. "You know how bored little boys get into mischief."

Yes, he did, but he would have bet credits that his friend had forgotten. "Uh huh."

"Well, I couldn't let him get in trouble. He is now the responsibility of the Jedi."

"Uh huh."

"He's a very nice child."

"Um hm."

"Has a good heart."

"Um hm."

"Mind you, I remain unconvinced that he is the Chosen One."

"How unexpected." Force forefend that Mace bend that far. He might snap like a twig.

"I hate you."

"That's nice."

Mace glared at him. "You could make this a little easier."

Qui-Gon smirked. He had a good idea of where this was heading, but he wasn't above savoring the moment after spending so much time bashing his head against Council edicts. "I could."

"A Jedi does not seek revenge."

"No, but payback is most satisfying."

Mace's glare intensified, then he rolled his eyes and looked away. "You are a most difficult man, Qui-Gon Jinn, but I suppose I do deserve a little grief over this."

That being as close to an 'I was wrong, please forgive me' as he was going to get from the man, Qui-Gon relented. "You taught him a few things, I take it." Trained a boy he had quickly grown to like. The results would be almost inevitable – the beginnings of a training bond. Something neither Qui-Gon nor Obi-Wan had established as of yet.

A relieved smile touched the handsome face. "Yes, mostly meditations and exercises, how to shield -- things a Padawan should already know."

Qui-Gon nodded. Strong with the Force or not, Anakin had six years' worth of training to absorb before he would be able to truly function as a Padawan. It meant Temple work, instead of training missions. Not the sort of thing the Council normally wished Qui-Gon to spend more than a few weeks a year on.

Mace echoed his thoughts. "It would be an unpardonable waste to remove you and Obi-Wan from the mission rosters for the year or so it will take for him to catch up."

He smiled at Mace's acknowledgment that Qui-Gon was going precisely nowhere without his bondmate. "The boy needs more than training, my friend. He needs those who believe in him and not in some murky visions of the future. We cannot lose him to a self-fulfilling prophecy."

"I may not believe he is the Chosen One, but I have come to know the boy, and I believe in his basic goodness. Inadvertent as it might have been, I have begun a training-bond with him. I would ask you to renounce your claim to him and allow me to take him as my Padawan."

It boggled the mind. Senior Council members did not take on Padawans. He couldn't help but think it would do his friend some good to be the first at defying, if not an edict of the Code, then a long-held tradition. As for Anakin, Mace knew him better now than either he or Obi-Wan did. And being the apprentice of a Master who expected too much from him might be almost as damaging as having a Master who foresaw only darkness and doom. "Technically, the boy is Obi-Wan's Padawan, so he must agree as well, but you have my consent."

*

The voices slowly wormed their way into Obi-Wan's subconscious. The sound of his own name brought him to a fuzzy half-asleep state. He was alone in the bed, the reassuring heartbeat too far away for him to hear. Both displeased him.

He liked it even less when he recognized Windu's voice. While his bond with Qui-Gon rendered the notion of jealousy ridiculous, there were only two people Obi-Wan knew of who made him deliriously grateful for the bond that prevented Qui-Gon from straying. Windu and Qui-Gon's first Padawan, Staucha. Not fully awake he could allow himself to feel petulant about one of them coaxing Qui-Gon from his bed. Well, he could fix that.

Groggy, sleep pulling heavily at his limbs, he got up and used his awareness of his bondmate to guide himself through the room. He heard a soft chuckle, then something warm and soft settled around his naked body. A sheet or a blanket he guessed. Not the sort of warmth he wanted.

That was on the other side of the room, sitting on the sofa. Much had changed over the years, but the fact that Obi-Wan Kenobi found bliss in the simple act of being close to Qui-Gon Jinn had not. With a sleepy sigh, he settled on the older man's lap, his head coming to rest on Qui-Gon's shoulder. Long arms moved around him, and though the voices were much louder, he could hear the precious heartbeat. He had no trouble going back to sleep.

*

Qui-Gon and Mace had talked about Anakin's training for hours. Most of the time spent with Obi-Wan curled up and sound asleep in his lap. Qui-Gon supposed he should be somewhat irritated with the young man. Unless Obi-Wan had decided his Master had taken up talking to himself, even more asleep than awake he should have processed that they had company. Instead Obi-Wan had walked across the room stark naked. Not a problem with Mace, who had been merely amused, then used the Force to drape a sheet around the sleepy Knight. But what if it had been Amidala? He couldn't imagine a 14-year-old girl, Queen or not, reacting with such aplomb under similar circumstances.

Yes, he should be irritated. He should have dumped the impossible boy right back into his bed, but he'd not managed either. Instead, he'd found himself accommodating him, even petting him like some pampered pet. For all his age and maturity, Obi-Wan could still command him with the ease of that blasted thumb-sucking tyrant of old.

/What is it with you and thumbs?/

Qui-Gon glanced at his bondmate and saw the grayish green eyes begin to open. He couldn't quite prevent a smile as he sent the image of a three-year-old Obi-Wan standing in his doorway demanding entry as only a child with big, tear-filled eyes could.

/And your point is?/

He sent another image of Obi-Wan's earlier performance through the bond.

/I knew it wasn't Amidala,/ he muttered. /Besides why didn't you Force-shove me back into bed?/

Qui-Gon sighed. Caught, but admitting that he wanted his sleepy love in his arms would not do. Fortunately he was the Padawan of Yoda and never had a sneakier son of a Sith lived. "Mace has something he wants to discuss with you."

/Oh, that was a subtle evasion./ He shifted his head and looked at Mace. "I apologize for my behavior, Master Windu."

/It might sound a bit more sincere, my imp, if you got off my lap./

/Be quiet, Quigee, or I will./

Force help him, Qui-Gon found himself tightening his grasp to prevent any such thing.

Mace chuckled – he'd been doing a lot of that this evening – then sent, /You two deserve each other./

/That we do, now get me out of this./

/Why should I do that?/

/Because you have a Padawan now, too, and blackmail cuts both ways./

/Don't try to bluff me, Jinn. You'd never tell a child about Kattau./

/No, but there was that time on Pagltan. .../

"I wish to speak to you about Anakin," Mace immediately spoke up. Almost a pity really. That Pagltan episode had all the embarrassing moments that would have kept Anakin giggling for weeks.

"Oh?" Obi-Wan answered, while exasperation bombarded their bond. /Now what?/

A smile tugged at the corners of Qui-Gon's mouth. His Obi-Wan might be more mindful of the Code, but he tended to have the same expectations of the Council. /All is well, imp./

/Hmm./

Not one to tease anyone above his station – unless it was his long suffering bondmate – Obi-Wan did not toy with Mace before acknowledging that he understood the man's ramblings about training and growing closer to the boy. Instead, after listening for only a few minutes, he said, "You wish to complete the training-bond and take Anakin as your Padawan."

Mace nodded. /At least your Padawan managed to develop some respect for his elders./

Qui-Gon fought a smile as his friend so conveniently overlooked Obi-Wan's earlier stunt. Now that he knew the imp had been aware of who their visitor was, he had no doubts that the action had been deliberate. His beautiful love wasn't quite above an occasional 'mine!' declaration. /He is young and has much to learn,/ Qui-Gon shot back.

Mace made a rude noise in Qui-Gon's head, then returned his attention to Obi-Wan. "Is this agreeable to you, Obi-Wan?"

To Qui-Gon's surprise, Obi-Wan hesitated when he'd assumed the young man would have leapt at the chance to remove Anakin from their day-to-day existence.

"It is a good solution to many problems," Obi-Wan ended his brief silence. "But I think I should speak to Anakin. We have led him to believe Qui-Gon is dead, and I have been woefully inattentive, so he will undoubtedly be pleased to be rid of us, but too much has happened to him without his consent."

Qui-Gon smiled and radiated approval. "As I have said, you are a far wiser man than I."

"And I, it would seem," Mace said with his own approving smile. "Go speak with your Padawan, young Knight. I will gladly accept whatever decision the two of you make."

Obi-Wan nodded, gathered his sheet close, then rose. Qui-Gon lamented the emptiness of his lap, but contented himself with watching his bondmate move across the room and gather his clothing. He loved that little swagger in the young man's walk.

/You are an old letch,/ Mace observed as Obi-Wan disappeared into the refresher.

Qui-Gon smiled.

*

Obi-Wan found Anakin playing with a group of children in one of the many gardens around the palace.

The boy's eyes brightened at the sight of him. "Master Obi-Wan sir!" he cried running over to him.

That and the enthusiastic hug that followed shamed Obi-Wan. Anakin was his responsibility, yet he'd neglected him. "I am sorry I have not spoken to you sooner, Anakin," he said, leading his charge far from other ears.

"That's okay, I knew you were sad."

Obi-Wan smiled slightly at the attempt, but he could feel the boy's hurt. "Anakin, do not try to hide the truth from someone better trained than you. They will always see through the deceit."

Anakin flushed. "I'm sorry."

"No, you have no reason to be sorry. I have wronged you, yet you sought to spare my feelings. Qui-Gon was right, you do have a good heart."

"Thank you." Probing blue eyes fixed on him. "Why didn't you come see me?"

Why indeed. He was tired, but recovered enough to shield Anakin's mind. It was time for the truth, if for no other reason than the boy needed to know he had the choice of three Masters, not two. He allowed that intention to brush his bond with Qui-Gon. Approval followed in the form of privacy being restored. Good enough. "I was tending to my Master."

A frown, then, "But his ashes have already been scattered. What else was there to do?"

"Qui-Gon's body was not burned. What you saw was a holographic alteration of someone else who died in the final battle."

"Why?"

He took a deep breath, then dropped down to one knee so they could look each other in the eye. "Qui-Gon was mortally wounded by the Sith." Reaching out, he gripped the boy's shoulders, both to comfort and restrain. "But I managed to use the Force to save him. He is not dead, Anakin."

The blue eyes widened. A jumble of emotions flooded through him – disbelief, joy, confusion and even deeper hurt and betrayal – and he did indeed try to pull away.

Obi-Wan did not release him. Words would be inadequate to soothe this properly, and he owed it to the child not to allow things to fester for years. "Open your thoughts, Anakin. I will show you what happened and why we kept the secret from those we care for."

*

Qui-Gon felt Obi-Wan make the decision to tell Anakin the truth – the young man had left their bond open enough for him to be unable to do otherwise and he suspected it was deliberate. He signaled his approval, by raising his shields enough to prevent the casual spillover of thoughts, then turned his attention back to Mace.

"Now, my friend, while you were off playing with future Padawans, some of us were busy trying to figure out what got us all into this situation."

*

Obi-Wan held nothing back of what he had seen or felt since the Sith challenged him and Qui-Gon in the hanger bay. Even the thoughts about Qui-Gon that were a too risqué for a child to 'see' were held up, then censored in a way for Anakin to know they held no further secrets without compromising the sensibilities of his age.

When he had finished the thought transfer, Obi-Wan sank back on his heels, his head bowed, as if waiting for judgment from nothing less than the Jedi Council itself. For this was his Padawan. The only one he would ever have. The Padawan necessity had forced him to lie to and love had compelled him to neglect. His Padawan of six days.

A small hand touched his cheek in a gesture that mirrored the caress of a dying Qui-Gon. A soft cry escaped Obi-Wan's lips and he literally trembled from the effort to not mentally reach for his bondmate.

Anakin's hand shifted to his chin, then pushed to urge Obi-Wan's head up. "I understand."

"Can you forgive me, Padawan?"

The blond head nodded and Obi-Wan could feel the sincerity in the gesture.

"Then you have a decision to make, Anakin Skywalker. In the time since you left Tatooine, you have gone from the child no one wanted to someone no less than three Jedi would be honored to call Padawan. The choice is yours."

*

"The Sith would be one who gained no matter what the outcome of the Naboo invasion," Mace said.

Qui-Gon nodded his agreement, listening to his friend's reasoning take him down the same path he and Obi-Wan had traveled. It remained only to be seen if he would reach the same destination.

*

Anakin was silent for several minutes which surprised Obi-Wan. He'd have thought choosing Mace was obvious, then he remembered the kindness of the heart beating within the small chest.

He smiled and reached out with his mind once more, this time letting the boy see his soul instead of recent memory. Let him see that it contained one man and only vague shadows of the casual bonds even a Jedi of his age should have established.

/No room for me./

He read the thought, then projected his answer. /Room for you always, but not as much as you might want./ It was not exactly the same thing as speaking through a true bond, but it did lay the path for the links between friends should Anakin wish to establish such ties someday.

/And Master Qui-Gon?/

/Formed many bonds before my birth. He can give you more./

/Master Mace?/

/Can form a full bond with you. We will all love and care for you, Anakin, whatever you decide, but only Master Windu can give you what is your right as a Padawan./

Anakin smiled. "Then I chose Master Mace."

Obi-Wan kissed the boy's forehead, then got to his feet with a smile. He held out his hand, "Shall we tell him together?"

Anakin took the offered hand. "We'll be friends?"

"Always." He allowed the mischief Qui-Gon always loved, yet dreaded to enter his eyes and smile. "I have much to teach you about getting around a Master."

*

"Palpatine?"

That made three. The last of Qui-Gon's doubts fell away and he nodded. "Yes, Palpatine."

"But to arrange the invasion of his own world. ..."

Qui-Gon shrugged. "We've seen others do worse in a quest for wealth or power, and the sympathy vote gave him the edge over his competition. But I must confess, that I was uncomfortable about voicing my suspicions until both you and Obi-Wan reached the same conclusion." He'd spent hours trying to find some flaw in his argument, but could not. At least not one large enough to take the risk of assuming Palpatine wasn't involved. "Something about the man has always bothered me."

Mace's eyebrows rose. "In what way?"

"I've never been certain. I fear it may be as petty as his Force signature clashing with mine." While few had the necessary midi-chlorian levels to be considered for Jedi training, many beings had varying degrees of Force sensitivity. It was not uncommon at all for the extremely successful or charismatic to give off such a pulse, as did Palpatine and a good fourth of the rest of the Senate. "I always end up with a headache if I'm around him for very long."

"I assume you will meditate on this situation."

Qui-Gon sighed. "Yes, yes, of course." Standard Jedi Response Number 1. Meditate. Why was it so much to ask to be allowed the simple pleasure of not liking someone?

/There is no temper; there is serenity,/ Obi-Wan responded, announcing he was re-establishing their bond to its normal levels.

/That isn't how it goes./

/That's because the writers of the Code didn't know you./

Qui-Gon cast black thoughts in the direction of his imp and discovered he was approaching their quarters. /Did all go well, my love?/

/Yes, but allow me to speak of it to Windu./

/What are you up to?/

Soft laughter. /Trust me, beloved./

With his life and his heart, but. ... /Why do I always find it unwise to do so when you say that?/

/Because you are almost as wise as I am./

"There is one flaw in your theory, Jinn."

Now there was something to pull a man's attention back to a conversation. "Oh?"

"While Palpatine would have become Chancellor regardless of the outcome, he can only hold the position as long as he is also the representative from Naboo. If the Trade Federation had succeeded, they would have removed him from power."

Qui-Gon gave his friend a long look. Force, the man could be so damned straight forward at times. "That was why the treaty was so important. A legal document, but one few could dispute might have been signed under duress. That would have given Palpatine the legitimate basis for declaring himself the head of the Naboo government in exile, which would make him a head of state as well as allowing him to remain in control of the Senate."

Mace made that neutral face that meant he'd failed to consider something. "Yes, there is precedent for that."

And Force knew Mace Windu was the keeper of all precedent. "Which brings us to the question of how to handle this. The Queen has no great love for the man. If we present her with our suspicions, she will undoubtedly remove him from office herself. But that will not get us any closer to the Sith."

Mace sighed. "We have no proof, but perhaps. ... I will contact the Council and recommend that he be questioned. Subtly, of course, but if he is guilty, they will get to the truth of the matter. Hopefully, he will know the identity of the Sith Lord."

"I doubt that our quarry would be careless enough to make himself known to a pawn." Then again, it had been extremely foolish to not make certain someone other than Palpatine had gained from either outcome.

"We must trust in the Force."

"Of course." Standard Jedi Response Number 2. Qui-Gon had found that on occasion a suspicious mind and one hand on his lightsaber had achieved better results.

/That's not what you always told me./

He sighed. Obi-Wan could pick the most inconvenient times to overhear his thoughts. /You needed no guidance in following your own mind, imp. It is a skill that Mace's Master failed to pass along./

/Whatever you say, Quigee./ The door to their quarters slid open. A small figure burst into the room and raced over to Qui-Gon. Laughing he swept Anakin up into his arms and hugged him.

/Why do you feel wistful, my love?/

/Just thinking of when you used to greet my returning home from missions with equal enthusiasm. It is possible to love and cherish the man, yet still miss my little imp./

/I know,/ came his answer along with a wave of affection.

Qui-Gon returned the sentiment, then centered his concentration on the boy in his arms. "It is good to see you, Ani. I'm sorry that it was necessary to deceive you."

"It's okay. Master Obi-Wan explained it all to me. I'm really glad you're not dead."

Qui-Gon grinned. "So am I, Ani. I would have missed watching you grow up to become a great Jedi."

The boy grinned back, then glanced at his Master.

Obi-Wan held out his hand and Anakin squirmed to be released, then went immediately to the young Jedi when Qui-Gon set him down.

His hands resting on Anakin's shoulders, Obi-Wan looked at Mace. "Master Windu, you have requested that I turn my Padawan's care over to you. We both give our consent to this."

A huge grin splitting Mace's face, he held open his arms.

Obi-Wan lifted his hands, then Anakin was off and running again.

The small body was enfolded in the big man's embrace and happiness radiated from both of them. A beautiful moment. One they were all allowed to enjoy for several heartbeats, then Obi-Wan spoke again. "I would ask a favor of you, Master Windu."

Qui-Gon recognized the tone of voice. Depending on his mood he would brace for a shouting match, flee the room or resign himself to letting the impish tyrant win yet again. 

Poor Mace didn't even blink. "Yes?"

"I would have liked to train Anakin, but know I am incapable." There was genuine regret in his voice. "I cannot properly bond with anyone other than Qui-Gon. I believe you know this to be true given your request."

Mace gave him a sympathetic look, and Qui-Gon heard the trap clang shut. He almost winced for his friend. "Yes."

"And it is the same for Qui-Gon."

A nod this time from Mace. A big, nasty trap. "Xanatos proved as much."

That little reminder, while true, smarted enough that Qui-Gon decided the man deserved what was coming.

"Then I beg you, urge the Council to declare us Bonded Knights."

That totally neutral look settled on Mace's face again, and Qui-Gon couldn't keep his own eyebrows from arching.

While many Jedi bonded, the official Declaration between Knights was very rare. It meant that the pair would always be assigned together. No exceptions, no Padawans. The Council neither liked the restrictions nor allowing a Knight to escape the duty of passing on valuable knowledge via one-on-one training. Mace was the most vocal in his opposition to such designations – something Qui-Gon suspected had its roots in the pain he had suffered when Qui-Gon had found his soul's other half in someone other than his oldest friend. Mace's support would all but guarantee the Declaration would be made.

/Qui-Gon. .../ Mace spoke in his head. Probably the beginning of a plea to make his bondmate see reason, but Qui-Gon gently cut it off, raising his mental shields so no one but Obi-Wan could penetrate them. This was Obi-Wan's gambit. He would not interfere.

Mace sighed. "It is warranted in your situation. I do not deny that."

It would be pointless to do otherwise since he'd admitted as much not two minutes ago, but Qui-Gon was a little surprised that he didn't try anyway. Then again, maybe he didn't want to look like a damned fool in front of Anakin. Qui-Gon had known the boy would be good for Mace.

Of course, Mace did have a 'but' up his sleeve. "However, the precedent it would set would be unfortunate."

The corners of Obi-Wan's mouth twitched. The imp was fighting a triumphant smile, which was more dignified than Qui-Gon's desire to chortle with glee.

"It is not my place to differ with you, Master Windu," the shameless imp went in for the kill, "but I believe you will find that our Declaration would not create precedent, merely follow one seldom invoked. A senior Council Member taking a Padawan would be precedent."

Mace blinked. Went neutral again for a moment, then turned an exasperated look on Qui-Gon. "You trained him well, Jinn."

It was tempting to say that in the matter of getting his own way Obi-Wan was the Master and Qui-Gon but the most humble of students, but he did not wish to invoke thoughts of the child when a magnificent Knight stood before them. "You grant me honor I do not deserve, my friend, but I will gladly accept it all the same."

"All right, Obi-Wan, I will add my voice to yours in this matter. You will have your Declaration."

Obi-Wan bowed slightly, then looked to Qui-Gon. His eyes sparkled with joy. It intensified the green, which contrasted sharply with the slight pallor of his skin. Concerned, Qui-Gon reached out and discovered the faint energy moving from Obi-Wan to Anakin. Thought-shield. The damned fool boy was overestimating his strength again.

/I did not. Circumstances merely compelled me to overtax myself to a small degree./

Qui-Gon forced a smile. "Mace, perhaps it is time for a reallocation of duties. I believe I'm sufficiently recovered to keep my existence a secret and you have a boy with a busy head to shield."

Mace frowned slightly, indicating he, too, had picked up on the drain. "Of course. Obi-Wan, are you ready?"

The young man nodded.

"Then release."

Qui-Gon felt the shift in the room as shields faded and were replaced by others. He had no difficulty at all in taking on his own share of the burden. In fact he was fit enough that there was no longer a need to keep himself isolated, but he thought it might be useful if the Sith thought him dead and a few who had been hurt by his 'death' deserved to be told face-to-face, not by a sudden awareness in the Force.

"Come, Anakin," Mace said, standing. "We should leave them to a few more hours rest before they leave for Coruscant."

Ah, time to go home. Wait a minute. 'They?' "You aren't returning with us?"

"No. Anakin and I are going to stay here for another week or two. I --"

Obi-Wan staggered, then dropped to his knees.

Anakin was at his side in an instant, his blue eyes wide with fright. "Master Obi-Wan sir!"

"I'm ... all right, Ani."

That sounded convincing. His earlier disgust with his foolish Padawan returning, Qui-Gon scooped Obi-Wan up into his arms, carried him over to the bed, then put him down far more gently than he wanted to. "He'll be fine, Anakin. All he needs is more sleep."

"Oh." The boy hurried over to the bed and began unfastening Obi-Wan's right boot.

Qui-Gon left him to it, returning his attention to Mace. "Two hours in a healing trance, and we'll both be good as new." It would also allow them to leave after nightfall. A useful precaution when trying to keep the news of his resurrection quiet.

"I'll inform the Queen you'll be leaving, and talk to the Council about the other matter."

He touched his friend's arm. "Thank you, Mace. For many things. But most of all for watching over us. Obi-Wan has no sense where my safety is concerned."

/I do, too./

/Be quiet, imp. I will deal with you in a minute./ "He would have all but killed himself had he tried to shield us."

Mace smiled, kissed Qui-Gon's cheek, then said, "I couldn't let that happen. You two deserve each other. Come, Ani." He held out his hand, and the boy joined him having finished his task. "Until Coruscant, my friend."

"Until Coruscant."

The door closed behind Mace and Anakin, then Qui-Gon turned toward the bed. "Now, as for you. ..."

Obi-Wan watched him approach with a look that was both wary and sensual. "You love me."

"Yes, which is why I will have that promise, my imp."

"No."

Qui-Gon reached the bed and glowered at him. He should swat that shapely backside repeatedly and with vigor, but those big green eyes were staring back at him. He sighed. "Promise me, Obi-Wan."

The young man glared at him.

Headstrong, impudent, beautiful imp. All right, so he would defeat concern for his safety with an even greater worry. "Obi-Wan, perhaps you should consider the fact that I have no desire to live on without you either."

It was that easy. Headstrong, impudent, beautiful and very much in love. "I promise. Unless your life is threatened, I'll keep my energy to myself." He glared at Qui-Gon, his eyes glinting with determination. "Now, you."

He did not want to -- which was why he'd hesitated to use the threat -- but he knew he couldn't have it both ways. Damned stubborn boy. "I promise."

Obviously none too pleased with the situation, Obi-Wan glared at him for a moment longer, then rolled over, putting his back to his bondmate.

Oh, no, none of that. Qui-Gon shrugged out of his clothes, then settled onto the bed, drawing Obi-Wan into his arms. "I'm sorry, my imp, but I, too, am a man very much in love. I won't have you risking yourself unnecessarily."

There was a long silence, and the back against his torso was stiff with tension. "I've done it for years and only went too far once."

Qui-Gon brushed his lips against the nape of Obi-Wan's neck.

No response.

He sighed. And in truth he felt like sulking himself. He liked being able to ease Obi-Wan's aches and ills. Ah, perhaps that was the solution. A total ban was an overreaction. "What if I agreed to let you give me these little boosts of yours when I am awake?"

No response.

"Be reasonable, my imp. If I am so ill or injured as to be unconscious, then a Healer should be called."

Obi-Wan turned slowly in his arms. "What if it is an emergency?"

Qui-Gon pressed a kiss to Obi-Wan's forehead. "Then you must do what you think is best, my Obi-Wan, but if you misjudge the situation, I will do what I must afterwards."

A frown settled on the handsome face, and Qui-Gon almost felt sorry for his bondmate. Like him, Obi-Wan wanted it his own way, with all the risks being his own. Unfortunately they were both stubborn men, and seldom did either totally win an argument.

"I agree." He tilted his head back offering his mouth. "But only if you kiss me."

"Imp."

"Quigee."

Their lips touched and a welcome heat settled in Qui-Gon's groin. They'd not had the time or the health to enjoy that heat since the Naboo mission began, and he quickly found himself aching for more than a kiss.

But no. He pulled back.

Obi-Wan groaned in frustration.

"Two hours in a healing trance, Obi-Wan. Now. I am well and truly sick of these rooms."

A glare answered him, but this time Qui-Gon did not blink first.

A sigh, then Obi-Wan curled up against him. "Two hours. No more?"

"Two hours."

*

They waited until after the sun had set before leaving the palace. Fit once again in mind and body, Obi-Wan easily handled his share of keeping others from seeing them as Amidala walked with them to the hanger. He might have chaffed at the order, but two more hours in a healing trance had been precisely what he'd needed.

"Though I am happy to see you both recovered," the Queen said, "I regret it means you must go."

Qui-Gon smiled. "I have the sense that our paths will cross again, your Highness. In any case, we are in your debt for your kindness and the sanctuary you offered us."

"It was little enough to repay you. And Captain Panaka would have liked to be here as well, but Master Windu and I have sent him to Tatooine to purchase Anakin's mother."

"Oh?"

"We thought it would give him comfort to know she was free and living on Naboo, rather than a slave on Tatooine."

Obi-Wan smiled. They had been right – Windu would prove an excellent Master for Anakin. /I don't think I would have thought of doing that./

/I admit, it had not occurred to me either, Obi-Wan. I fear I have grown too accustomed to seeing Initiates parted from their parents to see the need for it./

A possibility, but he thought it might be more than that. Consumed with thoughts of how close he had come to losing his bondmate, he had not considered Anakin much. How much the worse it would have been should he have allowed himself to become the boy's Master when his own soul had been destroyed. /We are too focused on one another./

/Yes, my imp, but it has always been as much advantage as disadvantage./

Amidala smiled, a sign that she might be aware there was a conversation going on that she could not hear. "Given that Watto might have reason to deal unfairly with anyone connected to you, Qui-Gon, I had the Captain take a non-descript vessel. It would please me if you would use my private ship to journey home."

Obi-Wan looked at the sleek Nubian and groaned inwardly. It did not invoke pleasant memories, and the beds were narrow bunks. /If you'll pardon the pun, Quigee, I am royally sick of that ship./

"You do us great honor, your Highness," Qui-Gon answered at the same moment a wave of Force swatted Obi-Wan's backside. Hard enough to feel, but not hard enough to make him jump – especially when he'd expected such retaliation as it was Quigee's usual response to his 'wretched' sense of humor.

"I believe you will find my quarters more pleasant than the ones assigned to you on previous trips." There was a knowing glint to her smile that reminded Obi-Wan very little escaped this girl's notice.

"Thank you, your Highness," he answered with a slight bow.

They finished their goodbyes, then entered the ship. Obi-Wan headed straight for the Queen's quarters, leaving Qui-Gon to deal with any last minute instructions to the pilot -- a man who was very aware of the Jedi Master's true fate. 

Ric Olie had been one of the pilots who had found the Jedi after their battle with the Sith. And it had been the body of his brother who had burned on Qui-Gon's pyre. His was one of the minds Windu, then Qui-Gon had needed to shield to keep their secret.

But Obi-Wan didn't want to think of death or pyres. They were alive and well. Thank the Force. And he was ... hungry. To his delighted satisfaction, he discovered a large bed with a firm mattress decorated their room. /Qui-Gon./

/Yes?/

/Come here./

Amusement brushed his thoughts. /I have spent the last few days in bed. Why would I want to climb back into one?/

Obi-Wan grinned, stepped in front of a mirror so he could see himself, then projected the image to his prey. He let his cloak fall to the floor, then his belt. /I can't imagine. Why would you want to climb back into bed?/ He slipped a hand inside his tunic and caressed a nipple, slowly teasing it into a hard peak.

/I could spend the time reading a book./

With his free hand, he unfastened the bindings of his tunic, then eased it off one shoulder. It fell away from his torso when he stretched for the sheer pleasure of feeling his muscles respond without pain or weariness.

/Or I could consult the newsreader. Find out what has happened in the galaxy since we took to our bed./

He used the Force to rid himself of his footwear, unfastening them, levitating up an inch to free his feet, then tossing the boots aside, all while his hands opened his leggings. A soft moan escaped his lips as his fingertips teased his hip bones.

Mmm, it felt so good. Not merely the sexual touch, but his body responding with the enthusiasm of health and renewed vigor. Sith, he hated feeling sick or exhausted.

/Not to mention the fact that I should take the opportunity of a quiet voyage to try once again to figure out how to pilot a vessel more complicated than a speeder./

Obi-Wan had to smile at that. His bondmate was hopelessly fumble fingered when it came to piloting skills. Fortunately that near clumsiness did not carry over into other areas.

He pushed off his leggings, leaving him naked and erect in front of the mirror. He studied his reflection for a long moment, then closed his eyes, eliminating Qui-Gon's ability to see him. /If you do not get in here within the next few seconds, my love, you will have an opportunity to do all those things./

A smile crossed his face as the door to their quarters opened, then closed. A moment later strong arms enfolded him, drawing him back up against a fully clothed torso. The fabric brushing his bare skin made him groan loudly, and he pushed back to increase the contact. "Are you strong enough to take me like this?" he whispered.

Qui-Gon did not answer. At least not with words.

Obi-Wan's feet left the floor, his entire body caressed by the Force as he was levitated up the necessary inches. Cloth rustled, a tendril of the same energy holding him prepared him, then Qui-Gon's cock pushed into his body.

Crying out his pleasure, Obi-Wan hooked his ankles behind Qui-Gon's legs and reached back to rest his hands against the other man's hips.

/My beautiful wanton imp./ Qui-Gon's lips made a meal of his jaw and neck, while the large hands wandered over naked flesh, his slightest touch making Obi-Wan writhe. /Open your eyes and look./

He had to fight to obey, his body at the point where it did not wish to respond, but he managed it. A soft gasp escaped his lips as he looked in the mirror and saw himself suspended in air, seemingly held aloft by nothing more than his tenuous hold and the heavy cock pounding into him.

His own erection throbbed with warning. /Touch me./

Obeying, Qui-Gon took him in hand, squeezing at the same time his lips fastened on the joint of neck and shoulder. He sucked hard, marking Obi-Wan.

Too much. He climaxed with a scream, arching in pleasure, then going limp in the aftermath.

Qui-Gon shifted, his lips moving to the other side of Obi-Wan's neck to suck again while he pumped his seed into his bondmate's body. Only then did the Force cocoon holding Obi-Wan waver, but not so much that he was dropped.

/I never know whether to be amazed by your control or insulted./ He nuzzled back, his nose caressing Qui-Gon's jaw.

A chuckle rewarded him, then the strength of powerful arms lifted him up, spent flesh falling from his body as he was turned. This met with his approval as it put him in a position for his mouth to be thoroughly kissed. /With age comes experience./

/With youth comes the desire to do it again./

/Imp./

/That's wanton imp to you./

*

They often shared dreams, so Qui-Gon did not know if the lake he sat beside was of his making or his love's. All that mattered was that Obi-Wan rested in his arms as the dream images swirled around him. Lovely, restful and not a Sith or a thumb-sucking tyrant in sight. It left them content. Vulnerable. And totally unprepared.

*

Pain like he had never known seared through Obi-Wan's brain and he woke to find himself sitting up in bed, a scream dying in his throat, his eyes wide with fear. Cold, yet hot, the pain felt like the rot of death -- it wanted to stop the heart, choke the lungs and destroy all hope.

He noted it all in the blink of an eye, then dismissed it, as one thing glared above all others – the pain flowed from Qui-Gon.

With a soft cry, he jerked towards his stricken bondmate and found him lying rigid, eyes wide open, his breath coming in gasping pants. "Quigee!" he shouted, grasping the other man's arms. "Force! Quigee answer me!"

Bloodless lips tried to move, but failed to form a word and nothing but ice and pain flowed through the bond. An attack of the mind, not the body.

Obi-Wan grit his teeth, centered himself, cocooning his consciousness in layer of after layer of his sense of self, then plunged into Qui-Gon's mind.

Despair, pain, death, loss, oh, Force. The lingering cold and Qui-Gon's emotions buffeted him, threatening to destroy him, but he would no more allow the mind to fail than the heart.

Focusing on the pain he found it flooding through all the bonds Qui-Gon had forged through the years. The bonds that his death should have closed. But something had ripped them open again. They flickered and sparked, but were pale things compared to the light of their own bond. That was it. /Quigee, I am here. Nothing exists but me. Focus on me. I am here. Nothing but me./

He called and soothed, while at the same time pushing away the others, drawing all attention to him.

/Imp?/

Force be praised. /Yes, Quigee. Center on me. Shield out everyone and everything else. I love you. I want you. I don't want to share./

/My imp. Never could deny you anything. Love you so much./

/Yes, Quigee. Nothing but us. Focus on me./

Qui-Gon's shields snapped into place, then a weak voice asked, "Obi-Wan?"

He leaned down and kissed him, then was seized in an embrace that threatened to crush him. He did nothing to break the hold. Petting the long silver and brown hair, kissing eyes and forehead, he offered tactile reassurance that he was well at the same time he continued to flood the bond with love and calm.

It took Qui-Gon a full ten minutes to settle enough to speak again. "Coruscant. So many dead or hurt. Obi-Wan. So many."

It had indeed felt like that, but psychic attacks could mislead. He needed answers to do more and to get them he had to get out of this bed. Cupping Qui-Gon's face in his hands, he commanded, /Sleep, my love. Dream of the day I first came to the Temple. Nothing else. Only that day. Sleep./

Qui-Gon slumped, succumbing to the command.

After making certain the dreams also flowed as he'd dictated, he slipped free from grasping arms and tangled sheets, jerked on his cloak, then went straight to the comunit on the wall.

First he contacted Olie, asking him to coax every ounce of speed he could out of the Nubian, then he began his search for information.

He was not surprised when his call to the Temple went unanswered. For all he knew, it had been destroyed. He set the hail on automatic repeat, then turned his attention to one of those bonds that had attacked Qui-Gon. Windu.

A call to the Jedi Master's comlink went unanswered, but this time he had an option. Never had he been so grateful that he had made the gesture of beginning a friendship-bond.

Again he centered himself, then sent his essence barreling through that tiny link. Resistance at first -- although nowhere near the level that should have been there had Windu's energies re-enforced it -- then the fragile shields of an Initiate gave way, and he burst into Anakin's mind.

More cold, more death, but not as deep. The training-bond with Mace was only hours old, and no other bonds existed. A simple matter to block the one and revive the boy.

/Master Obi-Wan sir?/

/Yes, Anakin. Don't be afraid. I'm with you./

/Cold./

/I know. You feel the Dark Side, my little friend. Push it aside and get up. You must see to your Master./

As it would have with him, those words got Anakin moving. Obi-Wan talked the boy through reviving him, counting on distance from Coruscant to keep the stronger, older ties from blocking out the newest.

The Force was with them for Anakin cried out, /He's waking up!/

/Stay with him, Ani. Focus on feeling calm and your affection for him./ Obi-Wan more than Anakin directed the flow, but it would work. And slowly he began to feel Mace automatically re-establish the shield's around Anakin's mind and push Obi-Wan away.

/He is aware now, Ani. I can't stay in contact. Get him his comlink as soon as he can speak./

A sense of agreement and gratitude touched him as the link faded away.

Minutes ticked by as he waited, then an answer came. Not from Windu, but from Coruscant.

"Hello?" A child's face filled the holofield. An Initiate, a girl of around seven. "Is anyone there?"

He pounced on the controls, firming up the contact and letting his own image reach her. "Yes. I'm Pad - Knight Kenobi. What is your name, child?"

"Myrla. Are you coming? I don't know what to do!"

He checked the ship's position. Another eighteen hours. "Tell me what's happened."

"It hurt a little, and then everyone fell down."

"Everyone?"

"All the older ones. Padawans and older."

He sighed. This was not going to be easy. "Myrla, I need you to listen to me. Do you have a favorite teacher or older friend? Someone you have a bond with?"

She nodded.

Thank the Force. "Then take the comlink with you and go to that person." It was going to be a long eighteen hours.

*

The dream had begun again. For the fifth time. Often enough for him to become annoyed by the repetition. And he knew he no longer needed its comfort. Bondmates aside, Qui-Gon was a Master and far beyond Obi-Wan's skill in manipulating the Force. That made it a simple matter to subvert the command that had sent him into this healing sleep, allowing him to pass into a more natural rest.

The hoarseness in Obi-Wan's voice woke him the rest of the way. Qui-Gon never had managed the trick of sleeping when even the slightest thing was wrong with his imp. He sat up in the bed and focused on the beloved young man.

"You have to focus," the raspy voice urged a tiny holofigure. "Fill his thoughts with you."

/Obi-Wan?/

/You're supposed to be sleeping./

/Who are you talking to?/

/An Initiate at the Temple. Liberon./

/An Initiate?/

/They're the only ones still conscious./

"It's working!" a young boy's voice called out.

"Good. Now stay with your brother until he's awake enough to do what you just did, then show him how to do it with someone he's bonded to."

"I will."

"Now, transfer the signal."

Another small figure replaced the boy, a Rodian, sex undeterminable at such a young age. As Qui-Gon listened, Obi-Wan talked the child through a guided thought projection. /What are you doing?/

/Waking everyone up. See how Windu is doing. He was nearly incoherent the last time I tried to talk to him./

More than a little disoriented, he opted to obey, but to his surprise, he found the way blocked by his own doing. Then he remembered Obi-Wan's voice telling him to focus only on him. The same words he was telling the child to relay to the figure it sat beside.

The memory of the frigid agony flooded back into his thoughts, banishing his confusion and driving away the unnatural calm. /Mace!/ he called out, shoving his way back through the bond with his former lover. The other end was blocked as well, and he had to ram his way into the man's consciousness. It gave them a matching set of headaches on top of everything else.

/Qui-Gon?/

/Yes, I'm here, my friend. I feel so much pain within you./

/Dead. She's dead./

/Who, Mace? Who is dead?/

/Adi. She's gone./

Adi Gallia. A member of the Jedi Council and Mace's lover of the last four years. A more natural chill swept through Qui-Gon. Only a fool would not have recognized the Dark Side as the source of this attack. Adi'd had a gift for intelligence work and would have been his choice to question Palpatine. It couldn't be a coincidence. The Dark Lord must have held his pawn more dear than they had thought.

Who else would have done the questioning? At least Yarael Poof. No one had ever approached the Quermain's mastery of mind tricks. /Mace, can you feel Yarael?/

/What?/

/You're linked with the other members of the Council. Who can you feel?/

/I. .../

/Mace, focus. We have to know what happened./

Silence, then, /They're all gone./

/What?/ His mind reeled at the very thought. All dead? /Are you certain?/

/All dead or cut off somehow. But Adi was the only one I felt become one with the Force./

A cold pain swept through Qui-Gon's heart. His Master. Yoda. No, please no. /Mace, listen to me. Concentrate on Anakin. He's frightened and needs you. Center yourself on that./

He coaxed and urged, slowly drawing his friend out of the state of shock threatening to consume him. Love was the source of Mace's pain, so he guided him to focus on duty. To Anakin. To the Temple.

/I have to contact Coruscant./ When the words he longed to hear finally came, he almost missed him. Thank the Force.

/Yes, Mace. It is time we both did our duty./

With a murmur of thanks, Mace ended their conversation. _Good luck, my oldest love. I have the feeling we will have great need of it in the days to come._

Mace taken care of, he reached out for his own answers. The training-bond he shared with Yoda. He threw everything he had into it, straining to find the slightest trace of his Master, but found nothing.

Tears stung his eyes, then spilled, as he tried over and over again. /Master! Answer me, my Master!/ He tried to tell himself that it was his own very real, however brief, death that had severed the bond, but had never been very successful at lying to himself. His death and heavy shielding had completely blocked the bonds he'd formed during his lifetime, but it should have taken nothing more than a thought to re-establish any or all of them.

Master. Gone. Master. A Master in his own right, Qui-Gon was no different than any other Jedi. He still looked to his former Master for guidance. Support. Approval. Oh, Master. ...

**One Year Earlier**

This was not going to be pretty. Qui-Gon walked down the ship's boarding ramp with Obi-Wan at his side. It was the middle of the night on Coruscant, which added to the sense that they were slinking home.

He was certain several instances would come to mind, but at the moment he couldn't remember a more spectacular failure. He felt very much like he'd made a mockery of all Yoda had taught him. His stomach churned at the very thought of facing his Master.

Obi-Wan's sound of surprise drew his attention, then his bondmate lowered a very minor shield so he could hear the conversation going on inside Obi-Wan's head.

/Returned have you./ Yoda. What was he up to? He had to know Obi-Wan would pull him into the conversation. Of course, he knew. An irrational fear that his Master was so ashamed of him that he no longer wished to speak to him gripped his heart.

/Yes, Master,/ Obi-Wan answered, reaching out to take Qui-Gon's hand.

/Good. Always missed you are./

/Thank you, Master./

/Now, tell Master of yours that infallible Jedi are not. Silly he sounds sulking. None could have done better. Proud of you both I am./ A wave of affection enfolded them both to underscore the words.

Qui-Gon couldn't have stopped his smile to save his life. That was his Master. Cranky, but always knowing exactly what an exhausted former Padawan needed to hear.

Obi-Wan smiled as well. /Thank you, Master./

/Hmpf. At my age, rest I need. Sleep too should you. In morning we will speak./

The connection ended and Obi-Wan restored the shield.

/I really do love that little green troll,/ Qui-Gon told him, letting go of his misery. They had done their best. He knew that. Had even known that few, if any, could have done better. He'd simply needed to hear someone older and wiser confirm it.

Obi-Wan grinned. The boy never did like it when he brooded. /It is difficult not to love one's Master, Master./ A suggestive smirk defined the word 'love.'

/Padawan, you are not suggesting. .../

Obi-Wan projected a wave of innocence.

Qui-Gon shuddered at the thought. The number of muscles he'd strain trying to have that sort of relationship with. ... Deciding that mental picture warranted retaliation, he sent a wave of Force snapping out at his bondmate's backside.

Obi-Wan yelped as it struck, then rubbed the offended spot. /That was rather hard, Quigee,/ he protested, accusation in his lovely eyes.

/And well deserved,/ he answered feeling not the slightest amount of remorse. /That was an extremely wretched example of your wretched sense of humor./

An equally unrepentant grin replaced the pout that had briefly tried to settle on his face. /But you love me anyway./

/Always. Force have mercy on my soul./ He tried to convey the depth of his suffering, but knew he lost much of the effect when he couldn't resist using the Force to soothe the small hurt he'd inflicted.

Obi-Wan's smile took on a smug quality and he went on down the hall, his hips swaggering.

Qui-Gon sighed. Ah, well, at least the view was very nice.

**Present**

Obi-Wan. Never alone as long as he had his Obi-Wan.

Almost as if to prove the point, he felt fingers gently brushing tears from his cheeks.

He opened his eyes and looked at the beautiful face he loved so dearly. "My Master is dead." He had to say the words to make it real. This sharp tearing in his heart was one he'd never thought he'd have to face. Yoda should have outlived him by decades. He wanted to rage at fate that it was not fair, but all he could do was repeat, "My Master is dead."

"No." Obi-Wan's voice was a rough, hoarse whisper. How long had he been talking on that comunit? "He wasn't on Coruscant. Those who weren't survived."

Alive? Not on Coruscant? "Obi-Wan?"

No sound came when he tried to speak again. Frowning, the young man responded with thought, /He wanted to be alone to mourn, my love./

Mourn? Who? Oh. As he loved his Master, so did his Master love his Padawan. Even if it were a hurt Yoda had known one day he must endure, it would not have been any less painful. Intensely private, Yoda would keep his mind heavily shielded even far from other Force sensitives.

/Where would he have gone? Everyone who knew is either incoherent or dead, and we must go to him./

His Master's retreat was a closely guarded secret for he never went there unless in dire need of rest. The members of the Council knew. And his only living Padawan. /Dagobah. He always goes to Dagobah./

Obi-Wan swallowed, picked up the comlink and forced out the words, "Set course for Dagobah."

A moment, then Olie's voice answered, "Be there in five hours."

Qui-Gon wanted to go for his Master. Even needed to, but duty demanded otherwise. "Obi-Wan, we should return to Coruscant and send someone of a lower rank."

Obi-Wan shook his head. /I know we are needed at the Temple, but he is needed more and a delay could cost Master Yoda his life./

Between the Nubian's speed and their position, Dagobah was several hours closer to them than anyone leaving from Coruscant. Qui-Gon saw that for the double-edged sword it was. "Who seeks him?"

/Palpatine. He _is_ the Sith Lord./

Qui-Gon's jaw literally dropped open. Impossible. No Sith ever openly sought power. Palpatine's mistress, attaché, bodyguard – anyone but Palpatine himself. It was a violation of everything they knew of the Sith. "Explain."

Obi-Wan lowered his shields and let him see the last five hours. One by one he'd talked Initiates through a bond-healing, until finally the process had gotten a few Knights and Padawans on their feet. What had happened slowly became clear as those closer to the devastating mind attack were revived.

A few members of the Council had indeed requested Palpatine's presence. He'd arrived at the Temple and entered the Council Chambers. Some minutes passed. Then ... pain, rage, a hunger for revenge swept through the Temple along with the cry 'He is the Sith!'

Palpatine had used the bonds to attack. The closer a being was in heart and proximity to a member of the Council, the more powerful the fallout. From one bond to the next it had ravaged all in the Temple, leaving only those with few and faint bonds conscious.

Eight members of the Council were dead. Fifteen Masters and senior Knights had also become one with the Force. Over a dozen more were in a psychic shock so deep the Healers were uncertain if they would ever recover. But Mace, Depa Billaba, Ki-Adi-Mundi and Yoda were all off-world.

Obi-Wan's best friend, Bant, had told him she had the impression that Palpatine would go after them. /All but Master Yoda were put on ships and are now safely in hyperspace./

The direct thought minimized Obi-Wan's involvement, but in his mind Qui-Gon could see him snapping out orders, sending Jedi who out ranked him and officials of other worlds scurrying to do his bidding. 

A magnificent Knight indeed. "Well done, beloved." He kissed Obi-Wan's forehead, his lips, then his throat, taking the opportunity with the final touch to send a small healing pulse into the abused vocal cords. "Now, rest. We will need all our strength for the battle to come."

Obi-Wan nodded. Yoda's location would have been torn from the dead Council members' minds, and anyone wanting to destroy the Jedi would want Yoda eliminated.

Somehow, the three of them had to find a way to stop a Dark Lord who had nearly destroyed the Temple.

*

Obi-Wan felt the slight shudder of the ship leaving hyperspace, then uncoiled from his meditative posture. Qui-Gon did not stir from his own meditations, but what small amount of information he'd picked up from his Master's mind about the world they were approaching, told Obi-Wan he should join Olie.

The man was already frowning when Obi-Wan entered the small bridge. "I've never seen readings like this."

Obi-Wan slipped into the co-pilot seat, training his own 'scanner' on Dagobah. The richness of life touched almost intoxicated him. No wonder Master Yoda came here when he felt the need to surround himself with the Living Force.

But it would make landing a nightmare. At least for anyone not trained to deal with such power.

Olie was a fine pilot, but like most, he tended to rely too much on equipment. Most of which failed the moment they entered the atmosphere.

Before Olie could even voice his alarm, Obi-Wan took over the control of the ship and easily steadied the violent rocking. Reaching out, he found an openness in the world teaming with vegetation and followed it. Wishing to distract the other man from the fact that an unproven pilot had seized command of his vessel, he said, "After we disembark, you must leave."

"Leave? I can't strand you here."

"Master Yoda has a ship. We will use it to reach Coruscant." If they survived. Qui-Gon seemed confident that surprise had allowed the Sith to strike with such ruthless efficiency. They were forewarned, and their foe would have drained much energy attacking so many. That gave them a chance. A small one, but they'd beaten bigger odds. He was almost certain of that.

Despite dead instruments and a view screen full of nothing but fog, he brought the ship down without incident, settling it into a clearing. "I've programmed the computer to return along the same course," he rose. "Go. Quickly."

"There's something you're not telling me."

"There always is." He smiled. "It is a Jedi trademark. You have been a valuable ally, sir. Thank you for that, and for the help you gave my Master and me when the battle ended."

"It was an honor."

Obi-Wan turned to go, but Olie said, "Kenobi."

"Yes?"

"You're a damned fine pilot."

Another smile. "No. You are a damned fine pilot. I merely know how to navigate through a Force maelstrom. Safe journey."

"And you."

Obi-Wan found Qui-Gon at the landing ramp. He was smiling, his eyes sparkling.

"I can feel him."

A Force probe of his own made him grin. Yes, that cranky irritation was definitely Master Yoda. After the horror of the last few hours, it almost made him want to cry to touch something so dear and normal. "Can he feel us?" The disturbance of such a large chunk of metal entering the biosphere could not possibly have gone unnoticed, but the passengers might be another matter.

"No, he's being obstinate. Probably hoping whoever has disturbed his solitude will have the decency to leave."

"We never have been good at taking a hint."

"No, we haven't. Let us go, imp. My Master awaits."

*

Qui-Gon followed his awareness of Yoda through the swamp, but deliberately did not reach out enough to allow his Master to recognize he was the one approaching. They had been far too successful in keeping his survival a secret. He would not have Yoda doubting his senses, and to prevent that, Qui-Gon needed to see as well as feel.

They lost a precious hour to the walk, but every step confirmed Obi-Wan's judgment that there had been no closer landing site for the large vessel. Abruptly, the swamp gave way to solid ground and a small clearing. A hut filled the far end. His back to them, Yoda was walking towards his home, small arms full of wood. The Jedi Master had been so tightly shielded he must not have even felt what had happened. It didn't surprise him. Yoda sought privacy with the same concentration he turned to any important task. A Padawan must be remembered and mourned properly. He remembered Yoda telling him that when he'd left for Dagobah after the death of the Padawan-Knight-Master who had proceeded Qui-Gon. Yoda's way of honoring the dead dear to him.

Joy warred with shame at having caused the sorrow that bent the small shoulders. Time to put an end to this. He stepped forward. "Master." 

Yoda stopped, sighed heavily, then went on with the journey to his log pile. He sat his burden down, then seemed to find something of great interest in the firewood.

"Master, I am not one with the Force. I beg you, turn and see me."

The small figure did not move for a moment, then he did turn. Green eyes widened and ears went straight up, then flattened out. /Tell me!/ The command sounded loudly in his mind and he barely resisted the need to flinch.

Qui-Gon opened his shields and let his former Master see it all. The battle with the Sith, his very real death, Obi-Wan pulling him back before his consciousness could disperse into the Force, Amidala's plan and his regret at the necessary deception – all of it flashed between them in a few moments.

Yoda called his walking stick to his hand, then, leaning heavily on it, he moved toward Qui-Gon. His Master looked every minute of his 800 plus years during that long, slow walk across the clearing. "Understand I do. Wise you were."

"Thank you, my Master."

Yoda stopped inches away from him, then looked up the several feet that separated their gazes. "Yes, understand I do."

He saw it coming, but did nothing to stop it, merely stood there as Yoda slammed his walking stick against Qui-Gon's shin. Repeatedly. All while making a keening sound that sounded like a cross between a moan and a wail. His shin had taken more than a little abuse in his Padawan days, and he owed his Master the release, so he ignored the sting of impact and did nothing to stop or evade the rat-tat-tat blows.

Only when Yoda fell silent and the stick's speed slowed, did he drop down to the ground and gather his Master into his arms. He could feel the small body trembling and sent soothing affection through their re-opened training-bond. /I'm all right. I'm sorry. I'm all right./

Short arms shifted and went around his neck and suddenly Qui-Gon had the irrational feeling that he was being held instead of holding. /Glad I am of that. Again you will do it not./

/Never again,/ he promised.

/Unless necessary it becomes./

/Unless it is necessary./

Yoda hugged him, then spoke, "Welcome back, Padawan mine."

Quo-Gon smiled at him, then sighed. "Would that I had nothing more to tell you, My Master. But there is more." So much more. His heart aching for the being he loved so well, he told him the rest of it.

*

Metal once more breached the Living Force of Dagobah. A cold horror invaded the light. Obi-Wan rested in Qui-Gon's arms and monitored Palpatine's approach. Only a few more minutes left.

The death he had sworn he would share with his Qui-Gon seemed very close, but, as always, he drew strength from the heart beating beneath his ear. As a child, he had thought every pulse the very sound of love and safety. Foolish, perhaps, but he still did, and he would gladly embrace eternity to follow it.

He pressed a kiss against Qui-Gon's unresponsive lips, then rose. His own weapon smashed to bits at the bottom of a Naboo melting pit, he picked up his bondmate's lightsaber, then stepped to the doorway.

One last look. Qui-Gon and Yoda sat in the center of the room, unaware and unmoving. The plan was simple. Obi-Wan would drain as much of the Sith's energy as possible, then the three of them would attack together. For the tactic to succeed, Palpatine must not sense Qui-Gon, must not find Yoda anything other than the decimated husk in psychic shock he expected. To ensure this, both had left their bodies, dispersing their consciousnesses throughout the swamp. Their bond all but gone, Obi-Wan suppressed a shiver. He'd not felt this cold and almost alone since the first time he'd thought the bond severed. That screaming, incoherent child clawed at his spirit, shrieking that this would not work, that bondmate and Jedi Master had over-estimated themselves, and he was alone.

He centered on Qui-Gon's heartbeat, told the child to be silent -- Qui-Gon would never leave him -- whispered, "I love you," then left the hut as Palpatine entered the clearing.

Igniting the weapon, Obi-Wan took a defensive stance. "You go no further, Sith."

The laughter was not unexpected. "I've slain a score of your kind, boy. Are you so anxious to join them?"

"I will protect my Master's Master."

More laughter. "And such a grand protector you are. There is emptiness within you, Obi-Wan Kenobi. I sensed it on Naboo. The Light has left you. Loneliness threatens to consume you."

"As it does your apprentice, Chancellor." The title rolled of his tongue like a vile curse. How could he have once thought this abomination had a kind face? "Come closer and I will send you to join him."

He ignored the taunt. "I can ease your pain, young Jedi. Fill the emptiness within you."

The Force caressed him. All of him. Nothing had ever felt so repugnant or so incredibly erotic. He groaned softly, his body responding despite his disgust. The seduction of the Dark Side. He'd never thought the words had literal meaning.

Heat pushed back the numbing chill, while tendrils of Force danced over his nipples, his groin, his buttocks. He wanted ... needed ... So warm. And he was so cold. So empty.

Then he felt the push. A Force touch daring to go where only Qui-Gon had ever been. No, no, no. No! But his knees trembled, wanting to give way, wanting to drop him down and spread his legs in offering. If only he weren't so cold, so empty.

Warm and secure. Love and safety. The heartbeat. Casting out with his senses, he latched onto the sound that meant all to him, used it to thrust the Sith from his mind and body.

Then he did the one thing no foe ever expected of a Jedi. He attacked. With all the power his command of the Force would allow, he sent a rotted tree trunk hurtling at Palpatine.

Even caught off guard by sudden loss of near victory, Palpatine sensed the approach and moved. Right into the second one.

Like a rag doll he went flying into healthy wood. Obi-Wan sensed the break of bones, the internal ruptures. Enough to kill. But a tremendous surge of healing energy followed and death no longer beckoned.

Never that easy. He took a step forward, then his eyes widened as blue lightning arched from Palpatine's hands and raced towards him.

Obi-Wan moved faster than he ever had before. His lightsaber blocked the first bolt while he twisted out of the path of the second. The tree behind him exploded. Never had he seen or heard of anything like this. Palpatine must have concentrated all his training on the mental, turning his own body into an energy weapon.

Jump, spin, slash, duck, jump again. He kept moving and blocking. Divorced from all awareness of time, intent only on preventing the bolts from striking him, he fought. And fought. And fought.

His limbs ached, then went numb, but the lightsaber continued to swing, his legs to leap. Then the inevitable, he jumped aside, but a knee buckled on landing, a bolt penetrated his defenses, slamming into his chest.

Obi-Wan screamed at the agony that ripped through him like molten fire. But he did not die. Gasping, struggling to his hands and knees, he glared at the Sith, watching the creature stagger to its own feet. "You grow weak, Sith," he taunted, begging his destruction. "It seems a boy aware of your stench is indeed a match for you."

"Brave words for a boy left alone to face his death," Palpatine's voice rasped, and he raised his hands.

Obi-Wan found a smile. "I am never alone." The Jedi Knight called as the baby, the child, and the Padawan had called before him. And as ever, Qui-Gon was there.

His bondmate's strength flooded through his limbs, propelling him up and away from the death barrage. He spun, leaped, landed next to Palpatine, then struck downward with his lightsaber. A vertical cut this time, but once again a Sith fell into two halves before him.

The Force seized Obi-Wan, jerked him backwards across the clearing and into a pair of strong arms, then two bodies curled around him as the world erupted into a firestorm of blue energy.

The rage and hate of it should have torn his mind to shreds while the energy seared his body to ashes, but Qui-Gon held him, and as he had always known, nothing could harm him within that loving shield.

In the midst of it all, he smiled, centered on the heartbeat, then surrendered to mind-numbing exhaustion and went to sleep.

*

Qui-Gon kept his unconscious Obi-Wan enfolded in his arms, his body tucked around the boy in a physical barrier that gave nothing but emotional comfort. The Force provided the true shield. He put his considerable power into it, but it seemed like nothing compared to that which radiated from the small body clutching both Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon.

Dagobah was disintegrating around them, but nothing breached their Force shield. Where teaming swamps had thrived, scored ground and death would remain.

/No, Darkness take this place it will not. Stop it I can./

Fear for the Jedi Master seized his heart. /No, my Master. The power is too great!/

/Hmpf. Right you are. Stop it, beyond me in this life it is. Transform it we must./

/What?/

Yoda did not answer directly. Instead, in the midst of a destructive power that was as much psychic as physical, he lowered his mental shields. He focused on his apprentice, letting all the affection and pride he felt for Qui-Gon flow into the Dark energy.

Almost automatically, Qui-Gon let his own feelings join them.

/The boy. Focus on the boy./

He'd never let himself feel it all at once before. A love so large it seemed to fill the universe. The confusion and joy of holding a newborn in his arms, the fond exasperation of a billion teasing moments, the desire as well as the love for the man, he drew on it all and released it into the storm. Tears streamed from his eyes, and he trembled, aching ... needing. ...

Beautiful eyes opened and a sleepy, contented young man answered his call.

The depth of it took Qui-Gon's breath away. He knew his love for Obi-Wan burned as brightly, but to feel its mirror image wash through him with such strength and power, threatened to undo him. Shaking, he pressed a kiss to Obi-Wan's forehead. /My imp./

Obi-Wan snuggled against him. /My Quigee./

He watched his bondmate go back to sleep. His bondmate. How could he have reached this aged and not understood the grandeur of that word? Always in his heart. Two lives. One soul. Love. A love great enough to defeat the hate of a Sith Lord. /So precious. My imp. My Obi-Wan./

It took him a long time to find the desire to lift his head and shift his gaze away from Obi-Wan. It did not surprise him to find Dagobah intact with only the trees nearest where Palpatine had fallen destroyed.

He looked to his Master and found him more yellow than green. The emotion might have been Obi-Wan's and his, but Yoda had been the one to focus it into an energy capable of transforming the Darkness.

Reaching down, he scooped Yoda up into the crook of one arm, and settled him against his side. Exhaustion. Nothing more. /Sleep, My Master. We must rest./

/Work to be done there is./

/Someone else can do it until tomorrow./ 

/Hmpf. Duty we have./

Qui-Gon glanced down at the green head nestled against his arm pit. /Fine, let's get to it then. Of course, that would require at least one of us having the strength to stand up./ Not that Qui-Gon couldn't stand up. He simply saw no point in it. The ground was soft and dry. And Yoda's hut was very small.

/Use the Force we –/

Enough of that. He touched his Master's shoulder and put him to sleep with a firm, if loving command.

/He will be furious when he wakes up./

True enough, but a cranky Master was something he could handle with ease. /Why aren't you asleep?/

/Because you aren't. I can't sleep when you're fussing./

Qui-Gon smiled. /Poor, Obi-Wan. What you must endure with me as a Master./

/Quigee./

/Yes, imp?/

/Go. To. Sleep./

He kissed Obi-Wan's forehead. /As soon as you have./

/You're impossible, but I love you./ Obi-Wan caressed his cheek, shifted his hand, then. ...

He had one brief second to bellow in outrage, then fell asleep with a beautiful imp's laughter dancing in his mind. In the aftermath of horror, they all slept, and because they were together, the dreams they shared were sweet.

end


End file.
